


Mrs.Bucky Barnes

by MaryIsNotImaginary



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: And Clint, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Bye yall, F/M, That's a lie, U and Clint are besties, Ya know I'm done with tags, a sinbean, and Sam wilson, but fr, hey yall, his arrows could stick ya eye out, how about, i feel like everyone loves Clint just not enough, i meant sunbeAm, i need to stop, i regret making an account on this site, i s2g stop, im so bad at tagging, imma leave, ok, omg, pls give Bucky a hug tho, shes a literal sunshine, that why y'all are besties, the whole avngers, those thighs, ur daughter is cute, we all know Sebastian is the sinbeAn, what do i tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6947851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryIsNotImaginary/pseuds/MaryIsNotImaginary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which an assassin meets a soldier in a strange circumstance and it takes her daughter to bring them together</p><p>Or</p><p>You're a dork, Bucky's a dork and you're five year old daughter knows you two are in love before you do</p><p> </p><p>-tAkes place post civil war, I feel Bucky could be doing more useful things instead of being in the fridge of freshness, for example he could be doing u</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at fanfics, and I can't get my mind off Bucky omg someone shut me down I'm terrible
> 
> Plus I was told by a friend that Solnyshko, means like small sun in Russian, please please correct me if I'm wrong!!

It hadn't been long, you decided, listening to the sound of the falling rain pitter pattering on the window. It hadn't been long since Clint had left the cold apartment that had never been called home. He had left with promises of returning with the only thing you held onto your sanity for, the only thing that had meant more than how many men you'd killed. It was too many, you thought, standing up and running your hand across the window sill, smoothing off the flecks of paint- a sign that it needed to be repainted. You sighed, you thought a soft pink or baby blue would look nice, but that was simply not acceptable. You thought maybe the colour would bring back the feeling that this place was not a prison, though you knew you would tire of the happiness you had to portray to your neighbours. They tried to ask questions in the beginning, 'why'd you come live here', 'how long have you lived here then'. Stupid questions, you answered briskly and they soon stopped. The tapping of your own foot surprised you.

You hadn't been impatient at all in your life, known as calm and collected even as a young child. You realised maybe standing around waiting for a miracle in the form of Clint had been desperate and tiring from the beginning, but you had a small ounce of hope that you'd picked up from the promises he gave. You trusted the man too much, so did Nat, it wasn't always a good thing. His quirky ways made you laugh, he made you remember that you weren't a machi- he made you remember you had parts of human left. At first, you thought him silly, though endearing, but you thought a man like him could never be in the field then Paris happened with you and him and you found the respect for him you felt guilty for lacking. You knew he would never break a promise, unless he was dead, but his absence was making you nauseous.

It hadn't been long, but it had been too long.

Your weariness and anxiety mixed like the alcohol you drunk to stay okay, it swirled and flipped in sharp motions like when a tsunami meets a hurricane; it made you sick. The lack of bright colour didn't help the mood; the white was now dull and dirty, and you didn't want to think about how many red marks there were from the blood of the people you deemed enemies. You shook slightly, those people had families, whether they were good or bad. Every footstep was noted in your mind as a threat, and the one closing on you was no different. You glanced at the window, wary, but didn't move. A knock came, three times and you sighed in relief. 

You didn't think you'd ever ran to open the door, but there you were like an excited school girl. You whipped the wood nearly off its hinges, eyes widened and tearful when the thing held in Clint arms cried out, "Mommy!"

The car ride was long, and yet again you found yourself impatient as the young girl on your lap. The fidgeting didn't stop until you stroked her dark hair, humming quietly in her ear, wishing that she didn't have to live this way- constantly being moved around and put in places she didn't understand. However, you were content as you knew she knew that you adored her above everyone in the world, and you were repeatedly there for her when you weren't supposed to be. You kissed the back of her head lightly and she lifted her shoulders cutely and innocently, too innocently to be held in the arms of a murderer. "Solnyshko," you whispered affectionately in Russian, and the girl giggled quietly, noticing the aura in the vehicle and she had a strange feeling she needed to keep quiet.

She looked like you, though not all your features were the same. Her hair was a dark brown, rich and thick and long and you envied her for that, her eyes were bright and childlike which flecks of gold, and the colour matched yours. One of the things you most adored about her was her Heterochromia, for a chunk of vibrant blue was in her left eye, growing up she thought it separated her too much from other kids as she didn't look normal, but you always were there to tell her otherwise. Her nose was turned up at the end slightly and was rounded to make a perfect button nose, and freckles spread over it, and down her flushed cheeks. You didn't think God could have designed a child so perfect, and she was your little sunshine.  
"Francesca, _____, you okay back there?" Clint spoke with only concern. You smiled in the mirror and your daughter copied your action, putting a thumbs up. Clint grinned with affection for the small child and put his thumb up too, keeping on hand on the wheel, and you knew you'd chosen the right man to be her godfather those years ago. 

It was sunset, the mix of blues, pinks, yellows, purples and reds was evidence of that. You thought you liked this time of day the most, as it was before the dark had settled and the sun was not quite ready to leave the day behind. You found joy in nature, you guessed that was at least some part in why Fury had insisted you move to a farmhouse in the country as a hideout instead of a lowkey place in the city. The man had kindly taken your preference into consideration, bearing in mind you had to be there a while and you were a good ally. Francesca had apparently been ecstatic when finding out about the 'vacation' to the countryside, according to Clint and Nat. You were pleased that she was, even though that was at the time you weren't allowed to see her, but your mind was at ease knowing she thought this was a vacation. You didn't want her to find out the ugly truths of the world or your occupation and you would stay here forever if it meant her keeping her innocence. You sighed. Despite your stubborn personality and protective streak, you knew you would never keep your child somewhere she wasn't happy, as you knew this place's calming aura would wear off her as she would enter her older years. You would let her become an assassin if it meant keeping her happy....

On second thoughts, definitely not.

Clint wouldn't allow it either, you know he wouldn't. He was like her uncle, and you knew there'd be nothing causing harm to her as long as you and him were around. The house was in view and you felt content. Clint wound down the window to let in that fresh grass smell you deeply loved, and other scents of daisies and summer fruits filled your nostrils and you hummed in content. "Mommy, look at the house!" Your sweet child then pressed her face against the window to try look at the pretty house in the distance. You thought about telling her pressing her face against the glass wouldn't help, but you laughed instead, stroking her hair with care. "Do you like it? It's our new home," She giggled in response and you knew you had made the right choice in insisting Fury send you here. You also knew Nat had something to do with it, but you also knew she'd deny it with that teasing smirk of hers. 

The house was painted a soft blue, one that matched a shade that drifted in the sunsets colours that spread almost as like a backdrop to your home. As you neared in the car, you could see it had cream steps leading to the small deck that spread around the front. In the deck, there were two arm chairs with a coffee table in between, and you were briefly confused. Two arm chairs? Francesca almost always chose someone's lap over a chair. Your eyebrows went back to their resting positions from when they'd furrowed up and your content expression returned. It seemed to have an attic, which you thought would be fun to make into a games room for the little girl, as you were trying to fill her life here with the things she'd missed when you were an active assassin and she couldn't live with you. 

The car came to a halt outside and Clint turned around from the front seat with an amused expression from Francesca jumping around on your lap, desperate to get out and enjoy her new home. You decided to not to torture her anymore, no matter how cute it was to see her excited face, and you opened the car door and she was out in a bundle of messy brown hair and joy. Her small chubby legs meant she couldn't run particularly fast, but she sure was speedy for a five year old. That didn't stop you from running after her as she squealed and picking her up and lifting her above your head with a large grin and spinning her around in circles. The bliss on her face was enough for you to fight off the exhaustion in your bones, and gave you the determination to spin her a couple more times before placing her on the ground. She didn't spend too long there though, as Clint scooped her up and held her with one arm with a suitcase in the other. You moved to the back of the car and got the remaining suitcases, shutting the boot after and walking to stand next to Clint and your daughter. You looked at the house in happiness and knew that this was the beginning of a great new life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is so gr8 I r8 8/8, and little Francesca is so cute bless ur smol bean of a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only gonna explain why they're there when I think you're ready to explain to Bucky and whoops he's not even in the story yet:) This is a slow build story btw, if ya'll haven't noticed:) hope you stick around for the ride
> 
> And just saying if I ever got a girlfriend, I'm so calling her doll

Clint had had a glass of wine before he left- well actually you couldn't find any glasses and the closet you had to cups were Francesca's sippy cups. You knew that had to do. 

You always welcomed his presence, as did your little girl. She thought of Clint as family, and close family at that. Clint's wife and children were also deemed family by your daughter, Laura seemed to class your girl as family too which you were grateful for and also led to the two of you being close. You met Clint's wife after Clint volunteered to babysit Francesca when she was nearing one, and you were confused about why the avenger would want to look after a child- as you weren't sure he'd ever mentioned any liking of children at all. After asking him so much in pure curiosity, he blurted out everything, about his family in the country- his wife and his two children, and confessed Laura had wanted to meet the little girl that Clint had talked about so much and become Godfather to. Laura had also been particularly excited to meet you and your girl because her daughter Lila had just turned one also, and Clint promised he'd stop her from smothering you when you met her. You were reassuring, as you knew what it felt like to finally let out a secret that was kept from even your closest friends. He told Nat on the same day, and you were convinced that the new knowledge meant as much to her as it did to you. You honestly did wonder how he'd managed to keep it on the low, but then figured it must be something to do with Fury. He'd done the same for you in the beginning with Francesca, but the girl had wiggled her way into the life of the Avengers, mostly at the fault of a nosy Tony. You always felt warmth to know that your Francesca was loved both widely and deeply, and instantly charmed whoever she met. 

You couldn't say much same for her father, you'd loved each other deeply, but not many could say the same for him. He'd been a cold man to all except his family, but you were grateful in some respects that Francesca could barely remember him due to being too young. He'd died quickly and painfully and that eased your mind, but you had grieved him, and you knew he wouldn't have wanted you to dwell on him your whole life- as you would want the same for him. However, the memories Francesca did have caused her to never allow anyone to shorten her name, as she remembered her father always calling her nicknames instead of her full name and she wanted to keep that. Tony had once called her difficult until she explained herself to the man and he then respected her choice. You liked Tony, as did your daughter, but he truly was the one of the most insensitive people you'd ever come across. You'd once asked Steve if Howard was like that, and he confirmed your suspicions that the genius had (reluctantly) taken on part of his father's personality.

You'd waved goodbye to Clint with your hand on the head of Francesca, the small girl leaning into you and waving as he drove away. Clint only lived around an hour or two away from where you did when travelling by car, which you felt extremely comforted by. You knew you could handle yourself if any danger occurred, but you didn't want to risk the safety of Francesca because of your pride. You went back into the house and grinned at the five year old, "You want to go chose a room, my little sunshine?" The girl cheered and ran upstairs, and you could her small feet pitter pattering. You just checked outside before following after her, being your paranoid self. The size of the house was absolutely perfect for you; it was big enough for Francesca to run around, but not big enough for you to be freaked out. You weren't a fan of big houses, they were always too eerie.

You knew there was a reason you were here other than protection, Fury had hinted at it and so had Clint when you were discussing the safe house in the beginning. Fury was a good man, but he must've had alternative motives- he wouldn't use a safe house just for you though you did get on well. The reason behind you being here was difficult and hard, and you didn't want Francesca to know what type of man her father was to make them have to hide away from civilisation. Only Fury, Clint, Natasha and Steve knew why, and probably Tony as well due to his invasive personality. You were one of the only files that didn't get released when SHIELD fell, which you were insanely grateful as you knew Francesca would be at risk of finding out why you were here, and your dear friends who you didn't want to see you in a different light. All you reminded yourself of, instead of the whole upsetting story, was that people were looking for you and Francesca wasn't safe. You just really needed her to be safe.

Speaking of the girl, she was somewhere upstairs and you decided to make your way up. You could hear her feet shuffling quietly and smiled warmly as you realised she was hiding from you. You crept around, intentionally making noise, otherwise you would be silent; you decided that it probably wouldn't be fair to use spy skills on a five year old child. The little girl giggled from her place in the wardrobe in the corridor and you flung open the door and roared causing her to laugh and jump into your arms so you lifted her up. You held her close to you, grinning, while she wrapped her tiny legs around you. The floorboards creaked slightly, but you surprisingly didn't mind as it made the house feel more worn into- more homey. Your arm supported her legs and she put her arms around your neck so you cold carry her from room to room. You remembered being told something about the first bedroom on the right and opened the door to a pale lilac room with glitter on some parts. It had a large, baby blue bed, big enough for the both of you in the corner of the room surrounded with various toys and a vanity dresser and a wardrobe. You laughed lightly as Francesca squirmed to be put down so early, eager to run over and enjoy the room that just said Clint all over. He was known to spoil your little girl, but you didn't mind. 

Francesca obviously chose that room, whereas you had the other three bedrooms to check out. One was a mint green with a relatively plain design and lovely bedding, but you decided that was probably best as a spare room. The next was strange, as it was painted an off white colour that reminded you of a hospital, it had a bed with the same off white bedding and a black, metal frame and a wooden chest of draws and a matching wardrobe. There was no way to describe the room without saying it looked like a room fit for a prison cell. It didn't fit the rest of the house exactly, the lack of colour and cold metal separated it from the warmth that was your new home. What made you confused, though, was the rucksack at the end of the bed that certainly wasn't yours and you couldn't imagine it being Clint's. You decided to ignore it for now and ask him later, simply because you just wanted to feel unthreatened and relaxed. It had been too long since you'd felt like that. The last room was yours, you knew as soon as you saw the blue, for it was your favourite colour. Blue just had so many shades it intrigued you and calmed you down in an instant for it was such a peaceful colour. It reminded you of the ocean and your mother's favourite dress. The bedding was swirls of blue, white and turquoise and you let out a quiet thanks to Clint and you knew this place was home.


End file.
